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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022813">is it better to speak, or die?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/denkiisbestboyo/pseuds/denkiisbestboyo'>denkiisbestboyo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Call Me By Your Name Fusion, Alternate Universe - Somewhere in northern Italy 1983, Angst with a Happy Ending, Changed that ending because I cant do sad endings I just CANT, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, Kenma just doesnt like Kuroo at first, M/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Theres a little Kuroo/Bokuto if you squint but just enough to make Kenma angy, kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:49:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/denkiisbestboyo/pseuds/denkiisbestboyo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s very impressive.” Kuroo said. “I’m glad I got to come out here.”<br/>“And we’re glad to have you.” Kenma’s father said. “You’ll make a great asset to the team, and I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the other boys.” He caught sight of Kenma in the doorway, and smiled. “Kenma.”<br/>Kuroo turned around, and met Kenma’s eyes.<br/>He was tall, taller than Kenma could have discerned from looking down at him from the window in his room. His hair was an absolute mess (hopefully because of the flight and not because he styled it that way) but it suited him in a way. His eyes were the thing that really captivated Kenma though. They were an amber sort of brown that caught the light easily and sparkled like he knew something you didn’t.<br/>Kenma nodded formally, pieces of his hair falling in front of his face.<br/><br/>(It’s Call Me By Your Name but volleyball themed and with a better ending)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bokuto Koutarou &amp; Kuroo Tetsurou, Hinata Shouyou &amp; Kozume Kenma, Kozume Kenma &amp; Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>is it better to speak, or die?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's Call Me By Your Name you guys because the KurooKen dynamic is just too similar for someone not to have done this already! Like, Kuroo is a little shit just like Oliver, and Kenma is quiet and snarky just like Elio, it's perfect. Except, the sad ending. I don't fuck with sad endings. Happy endings only club. </p><p>Also, there's no peach scene just because. It kind of changes some things about the plot to fit the Haikyuu characters better, but ehhhh it's my fanfic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For Kenma, summers were a fluid thing. They had a beginning and an ending - when school would let out and start again - but without the structured environment his teachers built during the rest of the year, the days blended into a pleasant haze in the villa. The rising and falling of the sun was no longer a marker of time, but a simple change of lighting. Summers in the villa were pleasant bliss. </p><p>The days were the same - Kenma would read and play games and lounge about in the sun for as long as he could bear it. Shoyo would come around every once in a while and bully Kenma into throwing some volleyballs for him to practice. His parents would come and go as well, his mother always out and about in town, and his father spending long hours coaching his team for some tournament. Volleyball was a theme in Kenma’s life he couldn’t shake. </p><p>There was one notable break in the haze of summer every year though; his father’s exchange student. Every summer for as long as Kenma could remember, his father would bring some exchange student out to the villa for a few weeks. They were always volleyball players; they were never memorable. Kenma didn’t mind (he didn’t mind a lot of things) and sometimes he even bothered to befriend them (usually at his mother’s pushing). Kenma didn’t see the need though. He had Shoyo and the other kids his age were always nice to him. </p><p>Shoyo was tossing a volleyball up and down, laying on Kenma’s bed, pushing the ball away from his chest only for it to fall down and for him to catch it again. The rhythmic sound of Shoyo catching the ball almost matched the pace of Kenma’s fingers flying across his PSP, but not quite. </p><p>“Kenma?”</p><p>Kenma hummed, not looking up from his game. </p><p>“Do you think your dad might put me on the team this summer?”</p><p>Kenma glanced up over the edge of his PSP at Shoyo. His honest answer… no. Shoyo was good, but he wasn’t that good. And with the likes of Oikawa and Bokuto already being scouted out… there was no chance. </p><p>Kenma just hummed again, eyes flicking back down to his game. </p><p>Shoyo sighed, throwing the ball up again. “I just want to play.”</p><p>“I know.” Kenma said. And he did. It was all Shoyo ever talked about. Kenma was getting sick of volleyball. </p><p>They sat like that for a while, in companionable silence. It was only when Shoyo stopped throwing the ball that Kenma looked up from his game. </p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>Shoyo sat up, tucking the ball under his arm and sliding off the bed, walking to the open window. “Someone just drove up.”</p><p>“It’s probably just dad.” Kenma said, getting up to follow Shoyo, leaving his PSP on his bedside table. </p><p>“It didn’t sound like your dad’s car.” Shoyo said. </p><p> Kenma didn’t think there was a difference between how any cars sounded. </p><p>He met Shoyo at the window, resting his elbows on the window sill and leaning forward to peer over the edge of the house. Shoyo did the same, keeping one hand on his volleyball to stop it from falling off the edge. Sure enough, the car that was stopped in front of the villa was not his dads, and the man getting out of it was not his father. In fact, his father was standing over to the side with his mother, walking over to greet the stranger. </p><p>“Coach.” The stranger smiled, holding out his hand to shake Kenma’s dad’s.  He had a crooked kind of grin, the kind that handsome boys had when they knew they were handsome.</p><p>“Kuroo.” Kenma’s dad greeted, firmly shaking the man’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you- you’re bigger than you seemed in the picture you sent.”</p><p>“Well it was hard to fit all of me in the photo.” The man- Kuroo- joked. </p><p>Kenma’s father laughed, and placed a hand on the small of his mother’s back. “This is my wife, Mai.” He introduced. Kenma’s mother shook hands with Kuroo. “And my son, Kenma, should be around…”</p><p>Kenma backed away from the window sill. “Ah.”</p><p>Shoyo glanced back at him, questioning. “Who is that?”</p><p>“Our summer guest.” Kenma said. “They’ll be wanting me downstairs.”</p><p>“Oh.” Shoyo stepped away from the window as well, still holding onto his volleyball. “I guess I’ll get going then… see you around?”</p><p>Kenma was already halfway out the door. “Sure.”</p><p>He headed downstairs and into the kitchen, following the voices of his parents and the new low drawl that belonged to Kuroo through the kitchen and into the study, where his parents were showing Kuroo all the jerseys and trophies on the walls. </p><p>“It’s very impressive.” Kuroo said. “I’m glad I got to come out here.”</p><p>“And we’re glad to have you.” Kenma’s father said. “You’ll make a great asset to the team, and I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the other boys.” He caught sight of Kenma in the doorway, and smiled. “Kenma.”</p><p>Kuroo turned around, and met Kenma’s eyes. </p><p>He was tall, taller than Kenma could have discerned from looking down at him from the window in his room. His hair was an absolute mess (hopefully because of the flight and not because he styled it that way) but it suited him in a way. His eyes were the thing that really captivated Kenma though. They were an amber sort of brown that caught the light easily and sparkled like he knew something you didn’t. </p><p>Kenma nodded formally, pieces of his hair falling in front of his face. </p><p>“Kenma, this is Kuroo Tetsurou, he’ll be staying with us for a few weeks.” Kenma’s father said. “Kuroo, this is my son Kenma.”</p><p>“Hi.” Kuroo smiled, sticking out his hand for Kenma to shake. </p><p>Kenma took his hand hesitantly, letting Kuroo grip his hand tightly. His fingers were rough and calloused - it was obvious from what. The handshake lasted only a second before Kuroo let go. </p><p>“I’m sure you’re plenty tired.” Kenma’s mother said. “It’s not a short flight coming from Japan.” </p><p>“No.” Kuroo agreed, grinning. “But I managed.”</p><p>“Kenma.” His mother turned to him. “Could you take Kuroo’s bags up to his room? I’m sure he’d like to get settled and rest before dinner.”</p><p>Kenma nodded again, reaching down to grab Kuroo’s bags. They were heavy, but manageable. Kenma hobbled out of the room with them, weaving back through the kitchen to get at the stairs. He could hear Kuroo a half step behind him. </p><p>“I can take one if it’s too much.” He offered. </p><p>Kenma shook his head, starting up the stairs. </p><p>“Do you speak?” Kuroo grinned.</p><p>Kenma rolled his eyes. “You’re staying in my old room.”</p><p>“Ah, you can.” Kuroo said, ignoring Kenma’s protest and taking one of the bags, lifting it effortlessly. </p><p>Kenma led them the rest of the way up the stairs and into his room, dropping Kuroo’s bags by the door. He quickly straightened the covers and the clothes that were strewn around in the hamper. He grabbed his PSP and some of his games - he wasn’t going to be staying in the spare without it, and was about to head over when Kuroo flopped down on the bed with a loud groan. </p><p>“So this is your room?” He asked. </p><p>“Yeah.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo nodded, looking around. “Thanks.”</p><p>“Sure.” Kenma said, going to close the bathroom door. “We have to share the bathroom.”</p><p>Kuroo yawned, stretching out over the whole bed. “What time’s dinner?”</p><p>“Five.” Kenma said. </p><p>“Cool.” Kuroo rolled over to bury his face in the pillow, tucking his arms under the sides so it framed his head. “Later.” </p><p>Kenma looked at him for a moment, and then left.</p>
<hr/><p>Kuroo slotted easily into the villa, as most of Kenma’s fathers' summer students had. He always chose a specific type to stay the summer, and Kuroo slotted easily into that category. He was polite to Kenma’s mother, he debated with Kenma’s father over the finer strategies in volleyball, and he charmed all the house staff with that grin of his. </p><p>Kenma thought he was a little bit of an ass. </p><p>Whenever Kuroo talked to him, Kenma’s stomach dropped slightly. He was annoyed when Kuroo ruffled his hair. The way he was so dismissive; his ‘later’, annoyed Kenma. His father’s team loitered around the house more because of Kuroo, disturbing Kenma’s peaceful summer. </p><p>Still, he tolerated him. Hopefully it was all just because he was new. </p><p>Today, Kenma had sat down in the study with his PSP, hoping that he wouldn’t be disturbed. He'd had no plans to move, grabbing one of the peaches from the bowl in the kitchen for breakfast and another to save for lunch. For the first few hours, he had been blissfully alone. </p><p>Until his father and Kuroo had decided to watch some of the volleyball matches his father had recorded last summer. </p><p>“Kenma.” His father said, turning on the television. “Just the man we wanted to see.”</p><p>Kenma glanced up over the edge of his PSP. </p><p>“Kuroo and I were going to watch some of the games from last summer.” He continued. “We could use those expert eyes of yours.”</p><p>“Expert eyes?” Kuroo, the devil that he was, sat down on the other end of the couch, lifting up Kenma’s feet only to drop them back in his lap. </p><p>“Mhmm.” Kenma’s father said. “He reads the court better than some of my most experienced players. And no matter how many times I ask him to come to the games, he won't.”</p><p>“What a waste of talent.” Kuroo said, glancing at Kenma. “You won't even go for your father?”</p><p>“He doesn’t even like volleyball.” His father said. </p><p>Kenma wished they wouldn’t talk about him like some kind of object. “I don’t hate volleyball.”</p><p>“But you won’t come to my games.” His father said.</p><p>Kenma frowned,setting his PSP aside and grabbing the remote from the coffee table and starting one of the matches, effectively ending the conversation. </p><p>He also wished people would stop assuming he hated volleyball. Just because he liked his books and his games better didn’t mean he hated the sport. Though with how people kept pestering him about it, he was starting to.</p><p>On screen, Kenma picked out those from his father's team he remembered - there was Bokuto, the loud one, and Lev, the other loud one, and Oikawa, the sarcastic one, and Nishinoya, the tiny loud one, and Tanaka, the angry loud one. </p><p>They were playing some team from a nearby town. The game started, and Kenma zoned out, just absently watching the players move on the screen. Kuroo and his father were enraptured though, pausing the recording every now and again to discuss some play or move. Kenma was more focused on Kuroo. </p><p>Kenma’s eyes trailed over him. Being around Kuroo so much might have been draining, but Kenma did enjoy looking at him. His eyes found Kuroo’s sharp jaw, his slender fingers, his toned thighs and calves. He looked like some kind of Greek sculpture. Except for his stupid hair. It was the way he slept, with his face pressed into the pillow like he was trying to suffocate himself, Kenma was sure of it. </p><p>“-because he’s just over the attack line here.”</p><p>“It wasn't the libero’s fault there, look, he’s in position.” Kuroo leaned forward, pointing at the screen. “If you look at the setter on the other side - can I have the remote?” </p><p>Kenma snapped out of his trance, placing the remote in Kuroo’s hand. He glanced at his father, who was watching Kuroo with a knowing smile. </p><p>“Thanks.” Kuroo took the remote, moving the recording a few frames forward. “Right there.” He paused it again. “That’s the setters tell for a dump, and if you look at the libero-”</p><p>“Nishinoya.” Kenma’s father chimed in.</p><p>“Right, Noya.” Kuroo continued. “You can see that he saw what was coming and was heading for it, he just didn’t get there in time. If anything, it was your one blocker, that guy-”</p><p>“Lev.” </p><p>“-Lev, who should be taking the blame for not paying attention.”</p><p>Kuroo finished his rant, hitting play again and leaning back into the couch. Kenma’s father was smiling, looking at Kuroo.</p><p>Kuroo met his glance and raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“He does this every year.” Kenma said. “Just to make sure you’re as good you say you are in the emails.”</p><p>“Oh.” Kuroo said.</p><p>“Passed with flying colors.” Kenma’s father grinned, settling back down into his armchair. </p><p>Kenma picked up his PSP again and dove back into his game, his feet still resting in Kuroo’s lap.</p>
<hr/><p>Kenma wished the volleyball court was in the shade. He couldn’t see the screen of his PSP out here and he was getting thirsty. </p><p>He and Shoyo were sitting in the grass, watching Kenma’s father’s team play a three on three game. It was obvious Shoyo was longing to join by the way he looked at the players. Kenma didn;t understand why he was so infatuated with volleyball, especially when he was so short. </p><p>Kenma’s gaze drifted back over to the game happening a few feet away. Kuroo, Bokuto and Oikawa were playing against Nishinoya, Tanaka and Lev and winning by a mile. The teams weren’t fair, but no one seemed to care. </p><p>Kenma’s eyes locked onto Kuroo, watching the way he moved. He was lithe and graceful, like a cat. Kenma admired the way his muscles shifted and pulled under his skin, the way his sweat ran down his bare chest, and the way his hair kept flopping over his eyes, only to be pushed away again. </p><p>He was nothing like the others. His movements were natural, not too loud and powerful like Bokuto’s or too calculated like Oikawa’s. The way he moved matched the rest of him, nonchalant and unassuming until you realized that he knew exactly what he was doing. Kenma knew he planned, the way his eyes flickered across the court was too-</p><p>“Kenma.” </p><p>Kenma looked over at Shoyo.</p><p>“Can you get us some water?”</p><p>“Why can’t you?” Kenma asked. </p><p>Shoyo frowned. “I’m waiting for them to pause so I can ask if I can play.”</p><p>Kenma stopped himself from laughing. </p><p>“Please?” Shoyo asked. “I’m hot.”</p><p>Kenma supposed he could use a drink. “Sure.” He peeled himself up off the grass and walked over to the folding table where his mother had left some bottles of water. They probably weren’t cold anymore, but Kenma grabbed two anyway, turning to walk back to Shoyo.</p><p>He was almost there when Kuroo bounded off the court and grabbed one of Kenma’s water bottles. </p><p>“Thanks.” He panted, uncapping it and downing half of it in one large gulp. </p><p>Kenma frowned. “That was for-”</p><p>Kuroo clapped a hand on Kenma’s shoulder, gently rubbing there. Kenma scrunched up his nose, shrinking away from Kuroo’s sweat covered hand. He hated being touched. And now Kuroo was touching him with a sweaty, rough hand. </p><p>“Did I hurt you?” Kuroo asked, concerned. </p><p>Kenma shook his head, starting back towards Shoyo.</p><p>Kuroo followed him, now resting both his hands on Kenma’s shoulders. “You’re kind of tense there.” He massaged the muscles, ignoring the way Kenma just shrugged his shoulders higher, like he was trying to fold up. </p><p>“Maybe it’s your posture from playing all those games.” Kuroo mused. “Shoyo!”</p><p>Shoyo jolted, leaping up and coming to stand next to Kuroo. Kenma rolled his eyes at his eagerness. </p><p>“Put your hands here.” Kuroo instructed, moving his own hands so Shoyo’s could replace them instead. “Doesn’t he feel tense there?”</p><p>Shoyo pressed his thumbs into Kenma’s shoulders. “Kind of, yeah.”</p><p>“He needs to relax more.” Kuroo said, ruffling Kenma’s hair. He looked at Kenma. “Maybe I could help you with that later.”</p><p>Kenma held Kuroo’s look.</p><p>“Kuroo!” </p><p>Kuroo turned back towards the court, looking now at Bokuto, who was waving him back over. “Later.” He said, before jogging back to the net. </p><p>Kenma watched him go, thinking about the calluses on his fingers. </p><p>“You could do with relaxing more.” Shoyo said, absently still massaging Kenma’s shoulders. It wasn’t anything like when Kuroo did it. </p><p>Kenma rolled his shoulders, throwing Shoyo off. He handed him the bottle of water that Kuroo hadn’t drunk, quickly pressing it into Shoyo’s hands. “I’m going for a swim.” He said.</p><p>“Oh, okay.” Shoyo took the bottle of water. Kenma had known he wouldn’t follow him. He was too busy sucking the volleyball players collective dick. </p><p>Kenma started away from the volleyball net, hoping the cool river water would take the sweat and the feeling of Kuroo’s hands away. </p>
<hr/><p>Kuroo slowly took root as more than just another of his father’s exchange students in the villa over the next few weeks. Kenma’s family accepted him as an extension of their own- his father bragged about Kuroo’s ability on the court like he was a second son, and his mother doted on him, cracking his sunny side eggs for him every morning. </p><p>Kenma tried not to mind. He was happy that his parents liked Kuroo so much. His father had made a good choice.</p><p>He couldn’t help but be acutely aware of Kuroo’s presence though. Maybe it was the fact that Kenma was somewhat jealous - he was who his parents wanted Kenma to be - but whenever Kuroo was around, Kenma knew. He sensed him like some kind of magnet, his whole being drawn to Kuroo like a moth to the moon. </p><p>He hated him for it, but he couldn’t get enough of him. </p><p>Kuroo never noticed Kenma’s eyes. They would peer over the edge of his PSP, tracking him across the yard or in the pool, drinking in the way he moved and breathed and behaved. Kenma knew that Kuroo only ever touched his hair when he was frustrated. He picked up on hos he tapped his left foot when he was bored. He noticed that when he folded his hands, Kuroo’s right thumb always rested on top, in contrast to how Kenma always put his left thumb first. Kenma tried it the other way, and found it unbearable. </p><p>Unbearable was a good word for Kuroo. He relentlessly bothered Kenma; always asking if he would ride with him into town or go for a swim or let him watch him play his games or throw up a couple volleyballs for him to practice. Kenma couldn’t stand his pestering, but he always gave in anyway, hoping that if he just gave Kuroo what he wanted, he would leave him alone. </p><p>It never worked. </p><p>“Kenma.” Kuroo leaned against the back of the sofa, looking down at where Kenma lay, mindlessly thumbing through a book. </p><p>Kenma flipped a page, grunting. </p><p>“Come set a few balls for me.” Kuroo said. It wasn’t a question. </p><p>Kenma glanced up at Kuroo. </p><p>“Just a few balls.” Kuroo said. “Like, ten. Ten balls.”</p><p>Kenma watched Kuroo’s mouth form the word into existence. Balls. </p><p>“I’ll make it eight balls, and then we can go for a swim.” Kuroo said. </p><p>Kenma turned back to his book. </p><p>“C’mon.” Kuroo grinned, playfully reaching down to fiddle with Kenma’s hair. “How many times am I going to have to say balls for you to come practice with me?”</p><p>Kenma sighed, not bothering to mark his place in the book before he batted Kuroo’s hand away, getting up from the couch. He hadn’t really been reading it anyway; he’d be too busy thinking about the almost feminine quality of Kuroo’s nose. It was refined and structured, like the rest of him. Kenma wished he would miraculously sprout features like that. </p><p>Kuroo just smiled, holding the door open so Kenma could walk out into the yard. </p><p>It was a pleasant day, not too cloudy, not too windy, just like all the other summer days. Kenma kicked off his shoes in the grass, feeling the dewy soft blades between his toes, and headed over to the volleyball net. He could hear Kuroo kick off his own ratty shoes behind him, throwing them over to the gravel path. </p><p>Kenma picked up a volleyball, still wet from being left in the grass overnight, and tossed it at Kuroo, who caught it easily, jogging over to the net.</p><p>“I’m only throwing you ten.” Kenma said.</p><p>Kuroo quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you’d agreed to eight?” He grinned. </p><p>Kenma rolled his eyes. </p><p>“You know, keep this up and I’m going to start thinking you actually like me.” Kuroo joked, tossing the ball back to Kenma so he could quickly stretch out his calves.</p><p>Kenma caught it, not bothering to stretch. “Ten if you don’t drag me on a swim afterwards.”</p><p>Kuroo pouted, bending over to reach for his toes. “Hmm.”</p><p>Kenma watched him stretch, memorizing the way his muscles expanded, how he breathed, watching his hair flop forward when he bent. He shouldn’t have cared that Kuroo’s hair was soft enough that the breeze could move it, but he did.</p><p>Kuroo righted himself, walking behind Kenma and holding out his hand for the ball. Kenma tossed it to him, taking a place by the net. </p><p>“I’ll throw, you set and then I’ll spike it.” Kuroo instructed, spinning the ball in his hands. Kenma nodded, turning so he could see both Kuroo and the net. </p><p>Kuroo threw the ball up, arcing it easily over Kenma’s head so that it hovered right over his hands. He took off sprinting, leaping high in the air. Kenma set the ball to him, and Kuroo slammed it down on the other side of the net, landing gracefully in the grass. </p><p>“That was a pretty good set.” Kuroo noted, reaching under the net to grab the ball. “I thought you didn’t play.”</p><p>“I used to.” Kenma said. “MY dad had me playing setter for his team back in middle school.”</p><p>“Ah.” Kuroo glanced at Kenma. “Makes sense.” He grabbed the ball, ducking under the net with it and jogging back to his starting point behind Kenma.</p><p>Kuroo tossed the ball up again, and the pattern repeated himself. Kuroo didn’t miss a single spike. Kenma watched him when he didn’t think Kuroo would notice. He cut through the air so precisely, leaping up to where the ball would be, almost hovering there like a hummingbird. And even when Kenma would mess up a set, Kuroo would adjust his leap. His movements were calculated, but his instincts were natural. It was like he was built for the game.</p><p>Eight balls later, Kuroo stopped. </p><p>Kenma frowned. “I thought you wanted to practice.”</p><p>“I think that’s good.” Kuroo said, stretching his arms up over his head so that his shirt peeled up, revealing a strip of tanned skin. “And you said if we did ten you weren’t coming on a swim with me.”</p><p>Kenma’s frown deepened, but Kuroo either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He set the volleyball down, pulling his shirt off and throwing it at Kenma so that it landed on his head, blinding him. Kenma pushed it off quickly, glaring at Kuroo.</p><p>“C’mon.” Kuroo said, walking over to slap a hand against Kenma’s shoulder. “Race you to the river.”</p><p>“No.” Kenma said. </p><p>“What, you scared?” Kuroo taunted.</p><p>“No, Kuroo-” Kenma started, but Kuroo was already tearing across the grass, glancing back to smile at Kenma. </p><p>Kenma sighed, and jogged off after him. </p>
<hr/><p>The party was small, covered in a haze of cigarette smoke and laughter on a warm summer night. Kenma was tucked away at a folding table with Shoyo, just people watching. Shoyo had insisted he not bring his PSP and for some reason, Kenma had agreed. Maybe it was because Kuroo would also be attending. Kuroo seemed to be at the root of a lot of Kenma’s decisions these days. </p><p>Kenma found strangely, that he didn’t mind. But he would never tell Kuroo any of it.</p><p>Shoyo was sitting with him, nervously watching the volleyball team dance. Kenma had never understood his fascination and fear of the volleyball players, and didn’t understand how Shoyo wouldn’t even go dance with them. It was <em> dancing. </em></p><p>Kenma was also watching the volleyball team, more specifically, Kuroo. He was dancing with Bokuto, one of the wing spikers, mockingly sexualizing it to make Bokuto laugh. Or at least, Kenma hoped it was mockingly. The way Kuroo draped himself over Bokuto and swung his hips was tantalizing. Kenma watched Kuroo run his hands over Bokuto’s chest, groping at the muscle underneath his shirt. Bokuto grinned and laughed and batted Kuroo’s hands away playfully. </p><p>Kenma didn’t like Bokuto. </p><p>Not because of this. Kenma couldn’t care less about who Kuroo wooed, or pretended to. But Bokuto was loud and big and too friendly for his own good. And it was a good thing he had volleyball going for him because, honestly, he didn't have much else. Kenma’s father liked him though, so Kenma would tolerate him. </p><p>“Do you think they would laugh at me if I tried to go over and dance with them?” Shoyo said. </p><p>Kenma tore his eyes away from the dancefloor to look over at his friend. “No one makes fun of people for trying to dance with them in real life Shoyo.”</p><p>Shoyo sighed. “I know, but I don’t want them to think I’m weird or anything.”</p><p>Kenma looked back over at Bokuto. Loud, friendly, happy-go-lucky Bokuto. “You wouldn’t have to worry about that with Bokuto.”</p><p>“You think?” Shoyo followed Kenma’s gaze. “He’s the one with the white streaks, right?”</p><p>Kenma nodded. “If you want, I could go over there with you.”</p><p>Shoyo’s eyes flicked back to Kenma. “Really?”</p><p>Kenma nodded.</p><p>Shoyo’s face split into a grin. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s go.”</p><p>Shoyo finished off his drink, getting up from his seat. Kenma got up as well. The song changed and they headed over to the dance floor, wedging between people to get to Bokuto and Kuroo. Someone’s elbow brushed against Kenma and he jolted. Maybe he should have just let Shoyo try on his own. </p><p>But then Kuroo and Bokuto were there, and Bokuto was leaning over to hear Shoyo over the music. He laughed, and Shoyo laughed, and then Kuroo was putting a hand on Kenma’s shoulder, spinning Kenma around to face him. </p><p>“Dance with me.” Kuroo said.</p><p>Kenma shook his head. “I don’t really dance.”</p><p>“Then what are you here for?” Kuroo grinned. “C’mon.”</p><p><em> You, </em> Kenma’s brain supplied. Kenma was here for Kuroo. Someone knocked against Kenma;s back, pushing him into Kuroo. Kenma pushed himself away immediately. He needed to get back to the table. </p><p>Kuroo wasn’t about to let Kenma slip away though. He placed Kenma’s arms around his neck, and rested his hands on Kenma’s hips, swaying to the music. This wasn’t the jokingly sexy dancing Kuroo had been doing before; this was pure joy and fun. Kenma found himself sticking close to Kuroo, swaying along to the music as well. </p><p>“See?” Kuroo said, grinning. “I knew you could dance.”</p><p>Kenma pursed his lips, looking away from Kuroo and over his shoulder. Bokuto had disappeared, leaving Shoyo with some tall, grumpy looking boy Kenma didn’t recognize. Shoyo was smiling though, so Kenma figured he was fine. </p><p>The song changed again, and Kuroo let go of his hips, instead grabbing Kenma’s hands to sweep him into a fast paced rhythm, hopping up and down as he danced. Kenma let himself be dragged along, following Kuroo’s movements. </p><p>The lights from around the area were bright enough that Kenma could see Kuroo’s face, but dim enough that the shadows accentuated his features, making him look even more beautiful than normal. He was smiling that crooked smile at Kenma, his hair swaying and moving and flopping in his face. He was beautiful. </p><p>Kenma felt the corners of his mouth perk up. </p>
<hr/><p>Kenma hated team practice days. </p><p>Days when his father and Kuroo would leave for the gym early in the morning and stay there all day, practicing with the team until past dinner. They would come home and scarf down some food, and then go straight to bed, Kuroo too tired to do anything else. </p><p>Those were days when Kenma would fall back on his old habits, gaming and reading and just wandering around the villa until someone needed him. It felt empty without Kuroo there. Kenma had become so acutely aware of his presence all the time that when he wasn;t present, things felt… off. </p><p>Today was one of those days. </p><p>Kenma rolled over on his bed, trying to focus on the game in his hands. But his thoughts kept drifting to Kuroo, imagining him smiling that crooked smile, covered in sweat. Except, there was no volleyball this time. Only him and Kenma, laying by the river in the moonlight. </p><p>Kenma looked down at the tent in his pants and sighed. </p><p>Setting his PSP aside, he leaned back in bed, drifting back into his mind. Kuroo was there, ever present like he was. Kenma watched imaginary-Kuroo peel his shirt away, like he did before they would go for swims or if he got too hot playing volleyball. He was fit, but not bulky. He had the slim physique of someone whose muscles were built from activity, not from working out. </p><p>Imaginary-Kuroo was grinning again now, that twinkle in his eyes directed at Kenma as he hovered over him, leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses along Kenma’s neck. Kenma reached down into his pants to stroke himself, letting imaginary-Kuroo take his clothes away until they were both naked. </p><p>Imaginary-Kuroo trailed kisses down Kenma’s chest, still grinning that stupid grin. His hair tickled, and Kenma wound his fingers through it. Imaginary-Kuroo chuckled, and took Kenma’s erection into his mouth, looking up at Kenma through his lashes with playful eyes, like he knew it was all because of him-</p><p>Kenma came in his hand, jolting back to reality with a soft groan. </p><p>He sat up, wiping his hand on his pants and peeling them off his legs. It was almost time for Kuroo to be back from practice. If Kenma showered quickly, he could still eat with them.</p>
<hr/><p>Kenma sat across the table from Kuroo, watching him eat breakfast. </p><p>“But anyways,” His father was saying. “Their coach was very impressed with you and Bokuto. Said you make a very good team.”</p><p>Kuroo grinned. “Have you told Bo yet?”</p><p>Bo. Kenma glanced away from Kuroo, down at his plate. He called him Bo.</p><p>Kenma’s father shook his head. “Haven’t seen him since last practice. And I’m sure you’ll want to be the one to tell him.”</p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t mind getting to see his face when he hears.” Kuroo said. “Maybe I’ll swing by when I’m in town today.”</p><p>Kenma glanced up from his plate. “Could I come with you?”</p><p>Kuroo’s eyes flicked over to Kenma, meeting his gaze. “I don’t see why not.” He said. “Any particular reason?”</p><p>Kenma shrugged, feigning nonchalance and indifference. “I just feel like getting out of the villa.”</p><p>Kuroo half smiled. “Alright then.”</p><p>Breakfast finished, and they left the villa on their bikes. Kenma kept pace a little behind Kuroo, watching the scenery roll by around him. After a while, it felt like Kuroo was the center of the world and everything else was just moving around him, including Kenma. </p><p>Kuroo said nothing on their ride, always a few feet ahead of Kenma. Kenma started to think he’d overstepped. Kuroo had wanted to go into town alone. Kenma should have just stayed home and played his games and longed like he did when Kuroo was away. </p><p>They stopped at the post office and Kuroo dismounted his bike, leaving Kenma to hold them while he walked inside. He returned with a few letters, sitting down on the curb and leaning back in the sunlight. Kenma propped their bikes up against the wall of the building and sat down beside him, tucking his knees up to his chest. </p><p>“Mail from home.” Kuroo explained, tearing open one of the letters. “My parents want every detail of the trip.”</p><p>Kenma nodded along. Kuroo had quite a lot of friends and family back home it seemed, judging by the collection of letters. “You must be popular back in Japan.”</p><p>Kuroo laughed. “No, I just have a lot of siblings who insist on writing separate letters.”</p><p>Kenma started to play with a weed that poked up between the stones of the road, winging the leaves between his fingers. “No girlfriend?”</p><p>Kuroo shook his head, ripping open another letter. “No girlfriend.” He repeated, glancing over at Kenma. “Why, you interested?” He joked. </p><p>Kenma focused on the little plant he was playing with. “Just curious.”</p><p>Kuroo hummed. “And here I thought you didn’t like me.”</p><p>Kenma glanced over at him. “I never said that.”</p><p>“Didn’t have to.” Kuroo said, opening another letter. </p><p>Kenma frowned. “I like you.” </p><p>Kuroo grinned. “So I was right. You <em> are </em> interested.”</p><p>Kenma felt his face heat up. “I didn’t mean-”</p><p>Kuroo cut him off with a laugh, setting his letters aside. “You’re too easy Kenma.” He said, ruffling Kenma’s hair as he pushed himself up from the ground. “I only needed to pick these up.” He said, holding up the letters. </p><p>Kenma got up as well, grabbing his bike. He watched as Kuroo tucked the letters away in his pocket and grab his bike as well. </p><p>“I have something to show you on the way back.” Kenma said.</p>
<hr/><p>Kenma veered off the road, stopping his bike in a patch of grass. Kuroo copied his movements, dropping his bike next to Kenma’s. Kenma glanced back at him to make sure Kuroo was following before he headed into the forest, following the path only he knew. Kuroo ambled along behind him, saying nothing. </p><p>They broke free of the trees at the river.</p><p>“This is my spot.” Kenma said, glancing over at Kuroo.</p><p>Kuroo was taking in the space, looking at every detail of the environment around him. The light was dappled from the leaves, and covered Kuroo in patches, creating the sort of artistic picture that Kenma would commit to memory and think about late that night. He was beautiful.</p><p>“It’s beautiful.” Kuroo said. </p><p>“I’ve read a lot of books here.” Kenma said, sitting down to dip his feet in the river. The water was cool and refreshing on his legs, tired from biking. </p><p>Kuroo sat down next to him. “How’d you find it?”</p><p>Kenma shrugged. “Accident really. Shouyou and I went on ‘adventures’ when we were little, stumbled across it.”</p><p>Kuroo nodded, peeling his shirt off. “Swim with me?”</p><p>He tossed the garment on the ground, and jumped into the river with a splash. Kenma watched him duck under the water and return to the surface, dripping. He pushed his hair out of his face and grinned. “C’mon.”</p><p>Kenma sighed and pulled his shirt off before sliding into the river and wading over to Kuroo. Kuroo floated in the water, lazily looking up at Kenma.</p><p>“It’s not really swimming if only half of you gets wet.” Kuroo said.</p><p>“It’s cold.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo scoffed, reaching for Kenma’s hand. “Loser.”</p><p>Kenma shrunk away from his reach, heading away from him. But Kuroo was a fast swimmer, easily catching Kenma and standing up, wrapping his arms around his waist before he fell backwards, dragging Kenma under the water with him. </p><p>For a moment, they were suspended there, hearing and seeing nothing. Kenma could only feel Kuroo’s arms around him. </p><p>But Kuroo dragged up out of the water, breaking the surface with a splash. Kenma gasped for air and Kuroo laughed, still holding him to his chest. </p><p>Kenma punched him.</p><p>“You look like a wet cat.” Kuroo laughed. </p><p>Kenma moved his hair away from his eyes and looked at Kuroo. “I hate you.”</p><p>“You don’t.” Kuroo argued. </p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“You don’t.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“No, you don’t.”</p><p>“You’re awful.” Kenma said. </p><p>“Stop pretending.” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Kenma.” </p><p>Kenma blinked up at him.</p><p>“If you actually hated me, you wouldn’t let me drag you to practice with me.” Kuroo continued. “And you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. And you wouldn’t have come with me today.” He paused. “And you wouldn’t be letting this happen.” </p><p>Kenma just stared up at him. </p><p>“I’m not stupid.” Kuroo finished. </p><p>Kenma reached up to cradle Kuroo’s face and kissed him. </p><p>Kuroo kissed him back greedily, wrapping his arms tighter around Kenma to hoist him out of the water. Kenma wrapped his legs around Kuroo’s waist, marveling in how he picked him up like he weighed nothing. Kuroo deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into Kenma’s mouth. </p><p>When they did pull apart, Kenma was sure he was blushing. </p><p>Kuroo carried him back over to the bank, placing him down on the ground and laying down next to him.</p><p>“I didn’t know you liked me… like that.” Kenma said.</p><p>“Well you had me convinced you actually hated me for a while.” Kuroo said. </p><p>“I never hated you.” Kenma looked down at him. </p><p>“You hated when I touched you.” Kuroo said. “That one day when we were all playing volleyball in the grass… you acted like I’d molested you.”</p><p>“I’m just not a touchy person.” Kenma said. </p><p>“I figured that out.” Kuroo noted. He placed his hand on Kenma’s thigh, running it up and down his leg. “Makes me feel kind of special. That you let me touch you.” </p><p>Kenma shivered. “Um.”</p><p>“It was the stares that gave you away though.” Kuroo grinned. He propped himself up on his elbows and met Kenma’s gaze. “You do look at me an awful lot.”</p><p>“Can’t help it.” Kenma muttered. </p><p>“See, that’s what I love.” Kuroo sat up fully, moving his hand from Kenma’s thigh to the small of his back. He pressed his forehead against the side of Kenma’s head, using his other hand to turn Kenma’s head to face him. “You didn’t even try to pretend you weren’t staring.”</p><p>Kuroo kissed him again, slow and sweet and full of passion. Kenma just let him, savoring the soft touch of Kuroo’s lips against his. When Kuroo pulled away, he left his forehead against Kenma’s.</p><p>“You’re very pretty.” Kenma said.</p><p>Kuroo smiled. “Yes, I know.”</p><p>“Cocky bastard.” Kenma grumbled. </p><p>“Oh, but you like that about me.” Kuroo said. “You think it’s attractive.”</p><p>Kenma leaned in, aiming to capture Kuroo’s lips again, but Kuroo leaned back, getting up and tossing Kenma’s shirt at him. </p><p>Kenma caught it, frowning. </p><p>“Look at the sun.” Kuroo said, gesturing to the sky as he slipped his shirt back on.</p><p>Kenma followed his arm, and sure enough, the sun was starting to disappear behind the tops of the trees. “Ah.”</p><p>“I know, it’s a real shame.” Kuroo said, helping Kenma off the ground. “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”</p><p>Kenma pulled his shirt on. “Yes, we’ll have to.”</p><p>Kuroo laughed and led the way back to their bikes, his hands in his pockets.</p>
<hr/><p>“The food is delicious.” Oikawa noted, smiling at Kenma’s mother. “You’ll have to show me the recipe.”</p><p>“Oh, well.” Kenma’s mother smiled, flattered. “It’s an old family secret.”</p><p>Kenma rolled his eyes, returning to his own dinner. His father was hosting the team tonight, and the table was crowded. Kenma was squished between Kuroo and Tanaka, trying to eat his dinner in peace. It was hard with Tanaka’s carrying on though.</p><p>It didn’t help that Kuroo’s hand kept wandering over to his thigh now and again. </p><p>“You know, Kenma is a pretty good setter.” His father was saying. “I tried to convince him to play, but…” He trailed off, shrugging. </p><p>“Rwrlly?” Bokuto, who was stuffing his face on Kuroo’s other side, peered around at him. He swallowed. “You set?”</p><p>Kenma shrugged, taking another bite. </p><p>“Oh yeah.” Kuroo chimed in, smiling. “He’s actually really good. He puts the ball right where you need it.” </p><p>He placed his hand on Kenma’s thigh under the table again, this time his hand wandering a little higher than it had before. Kenma held back a shiver, leaning over his plate to take another bite.</p><p>A drop of blood fell from his face, staining his plate. </p><p>Kenma cursed, grabbing a napkin and leaning forward, pressing it to his nose. He pushed away from the table, muttering an apology under his breath before ducking into the house. He needed some ice. </p><p>Scurrying to the freezer, he grabbed some ice cubes and wrapped his bloodied napkin around them, pressing it to his nose again. He hated nosebleeds. And they always happened when you really didn’t want them to.</p><p>Kenma slid down to the floor, leaning back against the closed cabinets of the kitchen.</p><p>“Kenma?”</p><p>Kenma closed his eyes, exhaling heavily. </p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Kenma called. </p><p>Steady, even footsteps entered the kitchen. Kuroo.</p><p>Kenma looked up. Kuroo was standing in the doorframe, looking down at him with that lazy grin on his face. </p><p>“What’re you down there for?” He asked, walking in and kneeling down next to Kenma. </p><p>Kenma shrugged. </p><p>“Nosebleed?” Kuroo asked.</p><p>Kenma nodded. </p><p>Kuroo hummed, sitting down next to Kenma and leaning back against the cabinets. “Didn’t know you were that turned on by me touching your thighs. I’ll keep it in mind.”</p><p>“It wasn’t because of you.” Kenma said. </p><p>“Wow, ouch.” Kuroo mocked hurt. “Let a guy dream, alright?”</p><p>Kenma rolled his eyes. “You’re a dumbass.”</p><p>Kuroo grinned. “Yes, you’ve said.”</p><p>They sat there for a moment, until Kenma pulled the soiled napkin away. The blood stopped flowing from his nose, and he stood up, letting the ice fall into the sink and tossing the napkin away. </p><p>Kuroo stood up with him, grabbing a new napkin from the holder. He brought his palm up to the side of Kenma’s face, gently turning his head. “You have a little…” Kuroo wiped under his nose, pulling away whatever blood was left there.</p><p>“Thanks.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo smiled, and ruffled his hair before throwing the napkin away.</p>
<hr/><p>Kenma could hear Kuroo in his room. He would get up and walk over to the bathroom, pause for a moment, and then walk back. Pacing. </p><p>Kenma couldn’t sleep because of it. </p><p>He pulled himself from his bed, not bothering to put on anything other than a pair of boxers before he headed over into the bathroom. The door on Kuroo’s end was closed, but Kenma could hear him on the other side, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he did when he was deep in thought. </p><p>Kenma opened the door, and was met with a startled Kuroo.</p><p>“Hi.” Kuroo said.</p><p>“You’re being loud.” Kenma said. </p><p>“Sorry.” Kuroo smiled sheepishly. </p><p>There was a moment of silence that hung in the air between them as they just looked at each other. The moonlight silhouetted Kuroo nicely, and Kenma couldn’t help but admire the smooth angles of his body. </p><p>Kuroo was the one who broke the silence. “Can I kiss you?”</p><p>“Yes please.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Kenma’s lips. Kenma reciprocated, stepping forward and letting the bathroom door fall shut. Kuroo wound his arms around Kenma’s waist and pulled him closer, breaking the kiss to look him in the eye. </p><p>Kenma could feel Kuroo’s boner through his shorts. </p><p>“I really want to have sex with you.” Kuroo breathed.</p><p>“Yeah I can tell.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo laughed, hoisting Kenma up again like he weighed nothing. Kenma clung to his shoulders, looking Kuroo in the eye. </p><p>“We can have sex, if you want.” Kenma said. </p><p>“Yeah?” Kuroo grinned.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Kuroo laughed again, dropping Kenma on the bed. “I love you, you know that?”</p><p>Kuroo climbed on top of Kenma, hovering over him. Kenma glanced down at Kuroo’s shorts, bringing his hand down to press at his erection. Kuroo inhaled, pressing his face into the crook of Kenma’s shoulder and pressing a kiss there. Kenma smiled. </p><p>“You know, I’ve thought about sucking you off before.” Kuroo breathed against Kenma’s neck, reaching down to tug at his boxers. </p><p>Kenma inhaled, shifting under Kuroo, shucking his own boxers off quickly. </p><p>“Eager, huh?” Kuroo laughed. He pulled his boxers and shorts off in the same motion, dropping them off the side of the bed. Kenma wound his hands into Kuroo’s hair and pulled, shutting him up. </p><p>Kuroo leaned back a little, taking Kenma in as a whole. He hummed, his eyes twinkling as dived back in, pressing little kisses to Kenma’s chest. He trailed his mouth down Kenma’s body until he reached his dick, taking it in his hand and tugging a few times. </p><p>Kenma keened. </p><p>Kuroo grinned. “You got pretty hard pretty fast, huh?”</p><p>“It’s you.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo’s teasing tone dropped. “Don’t.”</p><p>Kenma continued, sensing and opportunity. “It’s because of you. I’ve masturbated thinking about you before.”</p><p>Kuroo growled, low in his throat, before tugging at Kenma’s dick a little more roughly. Kenma exhaled heavily, connecting his eyes with Kuroo. He was looking at Kenma hungrily. </p><p>He maintained the eye contact as he wrapped his lips around Kenma’s dick, taking it into his mouth. </p><p>Kenma groaned, bucking his hips up into Kuroo’s mouth. Kuroo placed a hand on Kenma’s hips pressing them down to the mattress. </p><p>Kuroo continued to suck him off at a furious intensity, not letting Kenma even get his bearings before he was spilling into Kuroo’s mouth with a quiet whimper. Kuroo pulled off him with a pop, grinning. </p><p>Kenma glared at him.</p><p>“What? Not good?” Kuroo asked. </p><p>Kenma said nothing, forcing himself to sit up and pressing a hand to Kuroo’s chest, pushing him down into the mattress now. Kuroo let him, obviously amused. </p><p>“You’re laughing at me.” Kenma said, hovering over Kuroo.</p><p>“I’m not.” Kuroo said.</p><p>“You are.”</p><p>“Am not.” </p><p>“I can see you laughing.”</p><p>“I’m not-”</p><p>Kenma wrapped a hand around Kuroo’s dick, cutting him off. He started to circle his wrist, tugging with lazy patience, bringing his thumb up and over the slit now and again. Kuroo sighed, melting into the bed. </p><p>“That’s nice.” He said, gazing up at Kenma with lidded eyes. </p><p>Kenma hummed. </p><p>Kuroo brought a hand up to grip Kenma’s chin, guiding him down into a kiss. Kenma picked up his pace, savoring the way Kuroo gasped into his mouth. It wasn’t long before Kenma felt him pulse under his hand, spilling out. </p><p>Kuroo relaxed with another sigh, as Kenma grabbed Kuroo’s discarded pants to wipe his hand on. He was about to slide off the bed and head back to his room when Kuroo wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him back.</p><p>“You really thought you were going to leave.” Kuroo drawled. </p><p>“Yes.” Kenma said. “If we’re done here, I would like to get to sleep. You were keeping me up you know.”</p><p>“So this was just an elaborate scheme to get me to settle down.” Kuroo said. </p><p>Kenma nodded. </p><p>Kuroo laughed, pulling Kenma closer. Kenma pressed his face into Kuroo’s collarbone, letting Kuroo rest his chin on top of Kenma’s head. He smelled like sweat. He smelled like Kuroo. </p><p>Kenma drifted off to sleep with a small smile.</p>
<hr/><p>Kenma tracked Kuroo from the side of the court, watching him move and run and yell at his teammates. This was the most serious Kenma had ever seen him. It was kind of hot. </p><p>Kenma’s father stood up, blowing his whistle. “That’s time boys!”</p><p>The volleyball team stopped their drills, collectively collapsing to the ground. After watching practice, Kenma was glad he didn’t play for his father. He worked his team like dogs. But then, it was no wonder that they were all incredible players and built like Greek gods. Granted, practice was probably more intense now anyway, with the tournament coming up. </p><p>The tournament. </p><p>The whole reason Kuroo was here. And after the tournament… he would be heading back to Japan. </p><p>Kenma pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time to think about things like that. If anything, now was the time to take advantage of Kuroo while he had him. </p><p>Kenma locked eyes with him across the court. </p><p>“I’m going to fill up my water.” Kenma told his father, getting up and heading out of the gym. The water fountain was attached to the side of the building, tucked away in a shady corner. Kenma took his time filling his bottle, savoring the moment alone. </p><p>He didn’t want Kuroo to leave. </p><p>The rest of the summer without Kuroo would just be endless practice days. He would go back to wandering aimlessly around the villa, waiting for Shouyou or his parents to rope him into something. There would be no more-</p><p>Kenma heard Kuroo before he felt him. </p><p>Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma from behind, pulling him into his chest. “What’d you think?”</p><p>Kenma stopped filling his bottle, glancing up at Kuroo. “About?”</p><p>Kuroo frowned. “My playing.”</p><p>“Oh.” Kenma said. “Volleyball.”</p><p>“You weren’t impressed at all?” Kuroo prompted. </p><p>“Do you want me to be?” Kenma asked.</p><p>Kuroo sighed. “Nevermind.” He said. “Do you think we have a chance of winning this tournament at least?” </p><p>The dreaded tournament. </p><p>Kenma shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I’ve never seen the other teams.”</p><p>Kuroo grumbled something under his breath about Kenma not being a help and pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head before unwinding his arms and stealing Kenma’s water bottle. Kuroo drained it in one go, handing the empty bottle back to him. </p><p>“I just filled that.” Kenma said. </p><p>Kuroo shrugged. “Guess you’re going to have to fill it again.” He propped himself up against the side of the gym, watching Kenma refill his bottle.</p><p>“Wanna go for a swim after practice?” Kuroo asked. </p><p>Kenma glanced up at him. “Sure.”</p><p>Kuroo smiled, reaching over to ruffle Kenma’s hair. Kenma leaned into the touch, finishing off the bottle and handing it to Kuroo.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The gym was stuffy and crowded, and Kenma wished he had taken his father’s offer of sitting courtside instead of wedged beside his mother in the spectator seating. But he hadn’t wanted to distract Kuroo from playing, even if he’d insisted it would be fine. Kenma was too smart for that though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He focused on the game again, watching as his father yelled at his team from the sidelines. They were working hard, but the other team was working harder. Their key player, Ushijima, was worth at least two Kuroos, and five Tanakas (but Kenma thought almost anyone was worth five Tanakas). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was harder to pick up on the intricacies of Kuroo’s movements from up here, but Kenma still tracked him anyway, following him across the court, his eyes drawn to him like a magnet. He was playing harder than when Kenma had seen him in other games. This tournament meant a lot to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma had been trying all day to forget what this tournament meant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was always there, hovering in the back of his mind. Once this tournament was over, Kuroo would be going. There might have been a few days between when the tournament ended and when Kuroo was going, but it still meant that their time was drawing to a close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma wanted to hit himself. He had wasted so much time in the beginning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of him was wishing that the whole thing had never happened though. That Kuroo was just another summer exchange student, and that Kenma wouldn’t be missing him much once his stay was over. But it was too late for that now, and really, Kenma wouldn’t trade what he had with Kuroo for the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just didn’t want to lose it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The referee blew his whistle, and Kenma focused back on the game. The end of the second set. The other team had won it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They would play another set, and then it would be over, one way or another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of it. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Kenma tossed in his bed again, fighting back tears. He didn’t want to cry. There was no reason to cry. He still had time. If anything, Kuroo should have been the one crying. A loss like that was bound to hit hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few tears slipped past Kenma’s eyes, streaming down his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed Kuroo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed himself up off the bed and padded into the bathroom, knocking on the door that separated him from Kuroo. If Kuroo didn’t answer he would go back to bed. He didn’t want to steal any sleep from him, Kenma knew he needed it-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo opened the door blearily, looking down at Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma burst into tears, barrelling into Kuroo’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kuroo asked, smoothing down Kenma’s hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma just shook his head, pressing closer to Kuroo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo scooped him up, walking him over to the bed and sitting him down. He sat down next to Kenma, letting Kenma pile himself into Kuroo’s lap. He ran his fingers through Kenma’s hair comfortingly, hugging him tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Kenma sniffled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Kuroo said. “You going to tell me what’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma peeled himself away from Kuroo to really look at him. “I don’t want you to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo pressed his lips together. “We still have time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re leaving tomorrow to travel the country until you have to fly home.” Kenma said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell you what.” Kuroo said, pulling Kenma back into his chest. “You could come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t just run away to Japan.” Kenma said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can at least spend my last couple days here with me, yeah?” Kuroo asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma sighed. “It doesn’t change anything.” He felt the tears building up behind his eyes again. Kuroo was going to go back to Japan without him in the end anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo just rubbed Kenma’s back. “It’ll be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma knew it wasn’t going to be okay. After Kuroo left, he would be gone. But he still let himself believe Kuroo’s words, evening his breathing and shutting the tears down before they could escape from his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma pulled back, and kissed him. Kuroo reciprocated it, leaning back into the bed until Kenma was laying on top of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they broke apart, Kuroo smiled. “Better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma shrugged, nuzzling into Kuroo’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know this isn't really the time, but,” Kuroo said. “I’m a little honored that you would let yourself cry in front of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s you.” Kenma said. And it was true. As much as Kenma had wanted to push it away in the beginning, it had found a way to bubble up inside of him anyway. Kuroo was more than just another exchange student. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to leave you either.” Kuroo said. “It kills me just thinking about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma rolled off Kuroo’s chest, nestling against his side instead. “Then don’t think about it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo draped an arm over Kenma, holding him against his side. “Promise you won’t think about it either then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma inhaled deeply, relishing Kuroo’s warmth. “I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo hummed, playing with Kenma’s hair as he lulled him to sleep. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Kenma spent Kuroo’s last days with him, traveling the country together. His parents had let him go without a second thought, just glad that Kenma had actually gotten attached enough to want to go with Kuroo. If only they knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stayed in cheap hotels in big cities and went to all the dumb tourist places. Kenma thought it was kind of stupid, but Kuroo just laughed and dragged him along. They hiked and swam and just enjoyed the world around them when they didn’t have anywhere to go. Five days of bliss. Five days of holding hands and dancing and kisses under the moonlight and passionate sex for breakfast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five days of bliss, ruined in the rain at the train station to the airport. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma was sobbing into Kuroo’s chest, his arms wrapped around him and his fists balled into the back of his jacket, silently begging him not to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma.” Kuroo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma just shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to miss my train.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looked up at him. Kuroo was steadfastly looking at the sky, blinking back tears of his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t leave.” Kenma whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go.” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can run away.” Kenma said. “You can stay here, and we can live in that one city you liked, and we can work minimum wage jobs to make ends meet and we can be happy, but please-” Kenma’s voice broke. “Kuroo don’t go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few stray tears fell down Kuroo’s cheeks. “I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma let go of Kuroo. “I hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma.” Kuroo sniffled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.” Kenma repeated, vision blurring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo grabbed his hand. “Kenma, listen to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma said nothing, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come back.” Kuroo said. “I’ll figure out a way to come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go.” Kenma said. “Just don’t go and you won't have to come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The train whistle cut through the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo tugged Kenma closer, quickly pressing a hurried kiss to his lips before stepping away. “I’m going to come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo.” Kenma sobbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming back.” Kuroo said, ruffling Kenma’s hair before he stepped onto the train. “I love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo.” Kenma said it again, watching the doors close. The train let out another shrill whistle before pulling away from the station. Kenma watched it go until he couldn’t see it anymore, which arguably may have actually been very close. Kenma couldn’t really see much with all the tears crowding his vision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a plea, a whisper, a gasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no response. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Kenma ignored the knock on the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled over in his bed - Kuroo’s bed - and pressed his face into the pillow, breathing in Kuroo’s scent. The sheets still smelled like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouyou was probably worried about him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you in there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma said nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Kenma heard him walk away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled over again, looking up at the ceiling. Kuroo had promised he would come back. He’d promised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma didn’t believe him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would go back to Japan, and meet up with all his friends and family. They would ask him about his trip, and Kuroo would say it was good, that he had made some friends. He would tell them about Bokuto and Oikawa and the team. He would tell them about Kenma, and he would say that Kenma had been a very good friend. Summer would end, and school would start, and Kuroo would get wrapped up in university and forget all about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma would think about his crooked grin and his stupid hair and the way that he’d whispered beautiful nothings in his ear forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma let the tears run over his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He missed him so much it hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he would die. He would pass away from heartbreak, and Kuroo would come back and ask about him, and Kenma’s parents would have to say that he’d gone. And Kuroo would be upset, but he would move on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo.” Kenma whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room was silent. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Kenma!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma broke away from his PSP, setting it down on the table beside his sun lounger before dashing inside. He hoped whatever his mother needed would be quick. He wanted to spend the last days of summer with his games and his books, before he would have to go back to school and set those pleasant distractions aside for a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And pleasant distractions they were. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped inside, looking around for his mother before he finally found her, holding the phone in the sitting room, grinning. “It’s for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” It was probably Shouyou. Kenma took the phone, and his mother left the room, presumably to go finish making lunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Kenma asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma’s heart stopped. “Kuroo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve missed you so much.” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo.” Kenma repeated. He wanted to cry. He couldn’t cry right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’ve you been?” Kuroo asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been…” Kenma said. “Alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that good or bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.” Kenma responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo must have been walking, because he could hear the crunch of gravel through the line. “You sound kind of shaky. I’ll take it that you missed me too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Kenma said. “More than you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I have a pretty good idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I miss you so much it hurts.” Kenma said, his voice cracking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gone back to school yet?” Kuroo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Kenma said. “In a few days though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo hummed. “Lucky. I had to go back early this year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Kenma said. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, a special program I wanted to be a part of.” Kuroo said. “It was kind of hard to get into late, but I managed. It was important to me that it worked out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good that you got in then.” Kenma said. “Listen, Kuroo-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I’ve got to go, but I just wanted to let you know that I miss you, alright?” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Um. Yeah.” Kenma said. “I miss you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo chuckled. “Bye, Kenma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The line cut out, and Kenma put the phone back in its place. He didn’t even get to tell Kuroo that he loved him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma curled up on the sitting room couch. He felt drained all of a sudden, too tired to go back out to his game, too tired to cry. Kuroo should have never called. What a way to start the school year, on a broken heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma heard the door to the house open and shut, his mother leaving the kitchen to greet whoever just walked in. Kenma didn’t care who it was, nor did he have the energy to get up and see. Just hearing Kuroo had stolen all his will. Kenma hated him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He should be still in the sitting room, if he didn’t sneak away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now Kenma was hearing things. Whoever their visitor was either sounded exactly like Kuroo, or Kenma’s ears were just playing tricks on him. He was so stupid. Kuroo was in school back in Japan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not even going to say hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma peered up at the door frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was smiling down at him, standing there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re supposed to be in school.” Kenma said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t ask me what that special program was.” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma blinked back tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Studying abroad.” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma vaulted up off the sofa and jumped into Kuroo’s arms. Kuroo caught him easily. He was here. Kenma was touching him; he was real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.” Kenma said, smiling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, I know.” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma tucked his face into Kuroo’s shoulder, just breathing in his scent. “How long are you staying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The whole year.” Kuroo said. “I’ve got to go back there for graduation, but then I’m coming straight back. So, I guess, actually, forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your family just let you go?” Kenma asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just said I fell in love with the place and they were okay with it.” Kuroo said. “And I mean, you’re here, so technically it wasn’t a lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma pulled away, bringing his hands up to cradle Kuroo’s face. “You’re the worst.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I was coming back.” Kuroo said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The floodgates opened and tears began to drip down Kenma’s face. “I love you so much. I missed you. You cut me off on the phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo laughed. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma just looked at him. Took in all his features, like the first time. The slope of his jaw, and the way his eyes twinkled, his stupid hair that hadn’t changed a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I kiss you?” Kenma asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mom is right over there.” Kuroo nodded towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care.” Kenma said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo grinned. “Then yes, go ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma kissed him, and everything was okay, just like Kuroo had promised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had just taken a moment for Kenma to believe him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow me on tumblr @denkiisbestboyo or @kenmamightbebestboyotoo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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